Telephone
by Kamikazee
Summary: BtVSWWE A wrong number sparks an odd relationship.
1. Wrong Number

Telephone  
Wrong Number  
  
Author: Kamikazee  
  
Email: neo_kamikazee@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Series/Sequel: Part 1 of the 'Telephone' series  
  
Warnings: Not really, only about Chris's potty mouth  
  
Category: BtVS/WWE  
  
Pairing #: 161 (Chris Jericho/Willow)  
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Summary: In which, Jericho discovers an interesting new way to meet women.  
  
Archive: Fanfiction.net, Twisting the Hellmouth, Personal Space, Quickie Challenge. If you want to post it, just e-mail me.  
  
Author's Notes: An idea that hit me as I was lying in bed, at 3 a.m. in the morning. That's me, inspiration's bitch.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own either the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the WWE. This is simply a piece of non-profit fiction.  
  
Author's Note 2: Answer to the quickie challenge, object group 3: a grave, chocolate, a facial, a cellphone  
  
~  
  
"Do you think we should say a couple words?"  
  
"Okay, okay. Rest in Peace, stray cat, may you have better luck now that you're dead."  
  
"So, are we done?"  
  
"Yea, we're done. I just hope it stays dead."  
  
Buffy Summers and Willow Rosenburg looked down at the small pile of overturned earth that marked the grave of an unknown cat. The two had been patrolling when they had discovered the abandoned pet.  
  
Willow, being the bleeding heart that she was, had insisted on burying the deceased animal. Buffy had been dragged along for the ride. That, of course, is what led the two friends to the Rosenburg backyard.  
  
"You know, this is really not the way I was planning on spending Valentine's Day," came Buffy's disgruntled reply.  
  
"Stop whining, complain-a-lot," came the redhead's laughing replay, "It's better than some of your previous Valentine's Day's."  
  
"Just because I have a bad record," Willow snorted, but was silenced by a glare from Buffy, "doesn't mean tonight was going to be the same." She finished her statement with a self-righteous nod.  
  
"Sure, Buffy, sure." Willow's sceptical voice rung out as they returned the shovel to the garage. A roll of her eyes accompanied it.  
  
"Well, the night's not over yet," came the Slayer's determined promise, "Come on, Wills, let's Bronze it!" She sent a bright smile in the direction of her best friend. "We'll dance the night away, maybe find a couple of young hunks."  
  
"Hunks, in Sunnydale? We'll be lucky if they don't try to kill us," the two friends laughed together at the familiar topic, "But, really, Buffy. I think I'm just going to stay home tonight. Relax, lounge, you know, the whole deal."  
  
"Fine," came Buffy's exasperated reply, "If you're going to be mopey-girl, that's fine, I'm going to go out and I'm going to have a good time."  
  
"You do that," Willow had a smile on her face as she agreed with the blonde.  
  
"I will," came Buffy's reply, she began to walk down the dark street, stopping only briefly to turn back towards the witch. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay, Wills?"  
  
"Yes, Buffy," came her cheerful reply as she opened the door, "See you tomorrow."  
  
~  
  
Willow sighed as she entered the front lobby of her parent's house, alone for the first time that day. She loved her friends, she really did, but sometimes they could get a little suffocating. She was looking forward to the free time being home alone allowed her.  
  
Quickly undressing, the redhead entered the bathroom, starting the water for a nice, hot, bubble bath. As she puttered around the small room, she began to let her self relax. Just as she was preparing to stop the water and step into her wonderful bath, she was interrupted.  
  
*Ring*  
  
"No, please, not now," came her mumbled prayer to the ceiling. It went unheard as another ring pierced the silence. "I'm coming! I'm coming!"  
  
Slipping into her bedroom, Willow pulled a cellphone from the pocket of her discarded jeans. Flipping it open, she took the call.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hi, is Lita there?" came a male voice.  
  
"Sorry, I think you have the wrong number," Willow's reply was cheerful enough as she prepared to hang up and returned to her long awaited bath.  
  
"Wait!" came a cry from the other end, "Did Lita just ask you to say that! Tell her I'm not letting you hang up until she talks to me."  
  
"Really," came Willow's reply, somewhat confused at this point, "You have the wrong number, there's no Lita here."  
  
"Okay, this is getting old fast," came the unknown man's reply, "Tell her that it's Chris, and that she should stop sulking and get on the damn phone."  
  
"I told you." Willow's explanation was cut off.  
  
"Tell her that she shouldn't be sitting around moping about that bastard, Matt Hardy. Tell her, that if I have to, I'll fly down there with a pound of gourmet chocolate and shove it down her throat. You tell her that."  
  
"Listen, I would tell her. If I had any idea who she was!" Willow was getting somewhat annoyed at this rude caller.  
  
"What?" came the man's baffled voice.  
  
"Well, *Chris*, like I said, you have the wrong number," Willow's tone was sharp as she explained to the man, for the third time, what was wrong.  
  
"Oh, well, sorry, I guess," came his contrite and slightly puzzled voice, "I was sure this was Lita's number."  
  
"Yeah, well, I guess you wrote it down wrong. Or, maybe, you dialled wrong." Willow was trying to be helpful.  
  
"Guess I must have," came his reply, "At the beginning I thought you were just covering for her."  
  
"You know, if you think she would go as far as to ask someone to pretend it's a wrong number, maybe she really doesn't want to talk to anyone." What was she doing? Was she giving advice to some random guy who had dialled a wrong number and preceded that by being extremely rude? She was mental, and obviously starving for company.  
  
"Probably," came his reply, and she could hear a smile on his voice, "But, if I know Lita, she's moping around the house, feeling sorry for herself. She most likely even has a facial on."  
  
"Well. oh, crap." Willow had just realized that she had done something really stupid, "I left the bath running. Got to run. Nice talking to you. Bye!"  
  
Willow quickly hung up the phone and rushed into her already slightly flooded bathroom. A defeated look took over her face and a pained moan pushed past her lips as she observed the mess.  
  
"This is not of the good."  
  
~  
  
Meanwhile, across the country, the man known as Chris Jericho was smiling bemusedly at the phone in his hand.  
  
"Bye," was his whispered statement. 


	2. Caller ID

Telephone  
Caller I.D.  
  
Author: Kamikazee  
  
Email: neo_kamikazee@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Series/Sequel: Part 2 of the 'Telephone' series  
  
Warnings: Not really, only about Chris's potty mouth  
  
Category: BtVS/WWE  
  
Pairing #: 161 (Chris Jericho/Willow)  
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Summary: In which, Jericho's phone stalker tendencies make Willow invest in Caller I.D. Jericho resorts to drastic measures.  
  
Archive: Fanfiction.net, Twisting the Hellmouth, Personal Space, Quickie Challenge. If you want to post it, just e-mail me.  
  
Author's Notes: An idea that hit me as I was lying in bed, at 3 a.m. in the morning. That's me, inspiration's bitch.  
  
Author's Note 2: Sequel to a quickie fic.  
  
Author's Note 3: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I'm going to turn this into a mini-series, probably about 6 parts long.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own either the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the WWE. This is simply a piece of non-profit fiction.  
  
~  
  
*RING*  
  
Silence.  
  
*RING*  
  
"Uhhh." came the unsure voice of the brown haired man, "Willow, your cell's ringing."  
  
"I know." Came her even reply.  
  
"Are you going to answer it?" Xander's question was hesitant as he looked cautiously at his red headed friend.  
  
"Nope." The reply was short as Willow continued to type on her laptop, concentrating not on what she was doing, but on ignoring the shrill ringing that filled the back room of the Magic Box.  
  
"Oh," came Xander's simple answer. Silence reigned for several seconds before the man could work up the courage to ask his question. "Why not?"  
  
"Because I already know who it is, and I don't want to talk to him." It was the longest sentence he had managed to coax from her since she had entered the shop.  
  
"Well, who is it?" Xander's curiosity and concern for his usually bubbly friend was pushing him to find out what exactly was going on.  
  
With a sigh, Willow prepared to tell her tale, "He called me on a wrong number last week," thus the beginning was told, "His name is Chris, and now he won't stop calling me. At all. He just keeps calling, and calling, and calling.l"  
  
Xander tried to hold his laughter in as Willow sent a glare his way. "Well, Wills, looks like you've got a problem. More specifically, a phone stalker."  
  
Willow's mouth turned up in distaste. "Can that actually happen? Don't you laugh, Xander Harris, this is not funny."  
  
"Well, is he saying anything mean, disgusting, evil?" Xander's question was answered with a sullen shake of a red head. "Then, yes, it is funny."  
  
"No, it isn't!" the redhead pouted at her close friend, "What am I supposed to do? I can't answer my cellphone anymore without risking talking to him!"  
  
"Well, there's no law saying you can't talk to him." Xander's statement was cut off with a hit on the head by Willow, "Ow! I suppose, you could get caller i.d. Then you would know who was calling."  
  
"Great idea, Xan!" she cried happily as she was given an ultimatum. "I'll get right on that."  
  
Willow preceded that by quickly leaving the store, heading home. A smile was on the red head's face, she truly believed that it was all over.  
  
~  
  
"She's not answering," Chris Jericho was frowning at his cellphone. The man was sitting on his locker room bench, already changed into his ring wear. Christian looked up from the spot on the floor where he had been lounging, polishing his championship belt.  
  
"Just give it up, Chris, man," came the cocky voice of the blonde Canadian, "What's so important about this chick anyway."  
  
"She's just interesting, you know," was the reply from the self-proclaimed king of the world, "I don't have to act around her. It's kind of nice."  
  
"Yeah, man, or at least it would be, if she would talk to you," Christian shot at him, "Your like stalking her man, and you don't even know her name."  
  
"You know, that's probably why she won't answer," came Jericho's contemplative reply, "So, all I need to do is convince her I mean no harm."  
  
"How are you going to do that exactly, num-nuts?" Christian was not being very supportive to his friend. Then again, Christian wasn't very supportive to anyone.  
  
"Hmmm. I need to get someone else to call her," the plan was forming in his head as he spoke, "To convince her that I'm a good guy. But, who?" Chris' face took on a puzzled frown. It wasn't long, however, until a smirk lifted his lips. He turned his gaze toward Christian.  
  
"No. No, no, no." came the blond man's reply, "You can not be serious. Chris, man. I do not want to get involved with one of your twisted relationships. Last time, Lita nearly castrated me. No way. No, fucking, way."  
  
"Oh, come on, Christian, stop being a baby," Jericho's cocky voice tried to provoke the younger man, "What, are you afraid of a woman. She's even just on the telephone."  
  
"Oh, man. I am such a pushover. I can't believe I'm doing this," Christian was muttering to himself as he grabbed the phone number Jericho had scribbled onto a piece of paper. "You better be fucking grateful, Chris."  
  
The intercontinental champion walked out of the locker room. The blonde man was muttering to himself about finding a new best friend and how it was always him, always.  
  
"Good." Chris Jericho was not the least bit frazzled about his friend's attitude. He went about his business, confident that Christian would convince his mystery girl to talk to him.  
  
~  
  
"Wow, aren't you happy girl today?" Buffy's voice rung out across the espresso pump, "What brought on this drastic change of mood?"  
  
Willow smiled widely at her blonde friend; "I've got two words for you, Buffy, Caller and I.D." Willow happily plopped down at a table, cappuccino in hand.  
  
"So, I guess this means your phone stalkage days are over? And things were just getting interesting." Buffy's tone was sarcastic as the two friends conversed over sugar-loaded beverages.  
  
"Yep, I know the number of his phone, so I know not to answer when it's him," Willow's good mood was infectious, and Buffy soon found herself smiling with her redheaded friend.  
  
"Well, can't say I'll miss him." Buffy was interrupted by a familiar shrilling tone.  
  
*RING*  
  
"Ohh. let's test out the new system." Buffy was laughing, "Is it him?" Willow reached into her purse to grab her cellphone, quickly checking the screen.  
  
"Nope," Willow laughed back, "I don't know the number, but it's not his." She then turned away from the Slayer, and took the call.  
  
"Hello."  
  
"Hey." The reply was simple, and kind of hesitant.  
  
"Ummm. who is this?" Willow's reply took it's own hesitant tone to match his.  
  
"Yea, this is Christian. Okay, might as well get this over with, are you Chris' mystery phone stalkee?"  
  
"Okay, how did you get this number?" Willow's voice was getting aggravated now, with an undertone of panic.  
  
"Calm down, Chris gave it to me," was the arrogant reply of the man who had introduced himself as Christian, "He wanted me to tell you something."  
  
"What exactly did he want you to tell me?" Willow's reply was cautious, as she was flashing back to the 'Malcolm' incident.  
  
"He's not stalking you," was the quick reply, "He's just interested in you, god knows why. Chris is weird, but not dangerous."  
  
"Why should I believe you?" Willow's voice was still alert as she frowned at her phone, "How do I know he's not some creepy old man, or worse?" The or worse was the more likely of the two, as it was Sunnydale.  
  
"You should believe me because, if you don't, I'm going to have to deal with Chris in a whiny mood," his counter was somewhat annoyed, "And he's not a creepy old man, he's actually 32, if you wanted to know."  
  
"What's that got to do with anything?" Willow's reply was snark-ish, but she was slowly losing her conviction, "He was still annoying the hell out of me with all the calls."  
  
"Just give him a chance, okay?" Christian's reply took a pleading tone, not wanting to go back to his friend with bad news, "He's really not a bad guy."  
  
Willow sighed and accepted the fact that she really had a problem saying no before she spoke. "Fine, as long as he cuts back a little on the calls. I guess I could talk to him."  
  
"Good, that's all he wants," came Christian's relieved reply, "Oh, one more thing, what's your name?"  
  
"Willow," came the red head's reply, "My name is Willow."  
  
Across the table Buffy Summers was laughing quietly as her friend quickly finished her phone call and returned to her drink. Willow was not happy as she saw the expression on her friends face.  
  
"What?" was her sharp question.  
  
"I think you don't completely not hate this guy, Wills," Buffy replied, "there could be possibilities."  
  
Willow sent a look of horror towards Buffy as the blonde calmly smiled. 


	3. Speaker Phone

Telephone  
Speaker Phone  
  
Author: Kamikazee  
  
Email: neo_kamikazee@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Series/Sequel: Part 3 of the 'Telephone' series  
  
Warnings: Not really, only about Chris's potty mouth  
  
Category: BtVS/WWE  
  
Pairing #: 161 (Chris Jericho/Willow)  
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Summary: In which, the background is very much misinterpreted by Willow.  
  
Archive: Fanfiction.net, Twisting the Hellmouth, Personal Space, Quickie Challenge. If you want to post it, just e-mail me.  
  
Author's Notes: An idea that hit me as I was lying in bed, at 3 a.m. in the morning. That's me, inspiration's bitch.  
  
Author's Note 2: Sequel to a quickie fic.  
  
Author's Note 3: I'm so sorry I took so long getting this out. My 'Telephone' muse ran away. Once again, sorry to anyone who was waiting.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own either the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the WWE. This is simply a piece of non-profit fiction.  
  
~  
  
*RING*  
  
"I'll grab it!"  
  
"No, mine!"  
  
*RING*  
  
Christian and Chris both dived for the bedside, hotel phone at the same time, nearly colliding in the air as they landed sprawled in front of the phone. They both reached for the still ringing phone, slapping each other's hands as they went.  
  
The behaviour was more befitting of 7 year olds then it was of adult men, yet that didn't seem to discourage them.  
  
Christian finally managed to deflect Chris for long enough to grab the phone. The younger man grabbed the receiver, "Yo, this is Christian."  
  
A now familiar voice answered him, "Hey, Christian, it's Willow." She paused as though she was about to continue, but Christian immediately jumped in.  
  
"Willow! Nice to hear from you, girl!" Christian's voice took on a valley girl tone as he spoke. "It's been so long since I spoke to you! How are you? Taking care of yourself?"  
  
The redhead's laugh carried through the telephone, "I'm good Christian. Can you." The blonde Canadian, that she didn't want to talk to, once again interrupted the young woman.  
  
"Well, that's good. You need to take care of yourself," he went on, studiously ignoring the taller blonde that was trying to wrestle the phone away from him. "Wouldn't want you getting sick or anything."  
  
"Of course, can I talk to Chris now?" the redhead got her question in as fast as possible, trying to beat another deflection by Christian.  
  
The man on the other end of the phone sighed, "Well, I suppose. I don't see why you want to talk to him, though. You could do much."  
  
The man was cut off as Chris Jericho yanked the phone from his hand and pulled it away. Willow was laughing on the other side.  
  
"Hey, Willow," Chris smiled as he finally got to greet her. He had been talking to the redhead on the phone for a month and a half. A month and a half of not being able to wait until the next time they got to talk, a month and a half of wanting to meet the woman behind the voice.  
  
"Chris, finally," Willow's voice was slightly exasperated at Christian's antics, but still cheerful, "How's it going?"  
  
Chris Jericho leaned back against the headboard, relaxing as he talked to the woman, "Going good, I won't be able to talk long, though. We've got a show to get to."  
  
"Oh, yeah, the time change," that was one thing Chris had learned about Willow. She was incredibly intelligent, but had a habit of forgetting small things sometimes.  
  
"No, problem," Chris replied easily, "Just a sec, I'm going to put you on speaker phone." Her voice silenced as she waited, while Jericho quickly pushed the appropriate button before laying the receiver down. "Okay, shoot. What's been going on with you?"  
  
"Well, Dawn's being all teenager-like," she began happily, "It's hard to imagine I was ever that age." She happily went about telling her story. Chris listened as he and Christian began collecting their gear for the night and stowing it in gym bags.  
  
Several minutes passed, with Chris occasionally adding an encouraging noise to Willow's continuous stream of words. As he finished up, he turned towards Christian, who was beginning to make odd noises. What he saw nearly made him burst with laughter.  
  
Christian was attempting to forcefully shove his Intercontinental Championship belt into his already over-stuffed bag. The man was grunting with effort as he pushed at the gold.  
  
"It's not going to fit." Jericho said, his voice sounding somewhat constipated as he held back his laughter. Christian looked up at him with indignation.  
  
"It'll fit," his voice was tight with effort and he let another grunt out, "I just need to push a little harder. It's all good. Just give me a second."  
  
"Come on, man," Chris let out, "That looks like it hurts. Maybe you should stop. It's to big, take one of the smaller things out if you want it so bad."  
  
The two men continued their conversation, unaware that the woman on the telephone had stopped talking quite a few minutes ago to simply listen. Listen and wonder.  
  
~  
  
Various things ran through Willow's mind as she listened to the two men talk over the phone. The thoughts in her head were extremely inappropriate, but she could not think of anything else they could be talking about.  
  
"Come on Wills," she muttered to herself, "rationalize this. That's not the only thing that could be happening. It could be anything, anything at all."  
  
'Or it could be exactly what you think it is.'  
  
'I don't want to hear that. That's completely inappropriate.'  
  
'Hey, I'm only saying what you're thinking.'  
  
'I don't want to hear it, I'm sure Chris will have a very reasonable answer.'  
  
'Then why don't you ask him?'  
  
'Fine, I will.'  
  
Ending the odd conversation with herself, Willow once again turned her attention back to the phone in her hands. She took a deep breath, praying for courage before finally voicing her question.  
  
"What, in the name, are you two doing?"  
  
The question didn't come out quite the way she had planned. 


	4. Conference Call

Telephone  
Conference Call  
  
Author: Kamikazee E-Mail: neo_kamikaze@hotmail.com Rating: PG-13 Series/Sequel: Part 4 of the Telephone series Warnings: Only for Jericho's potty mouth Category: BtVS/WWE Pairing #: 161 (Chris Jericho/Willow) Spoilers: None Summary: In which, Buffy gets protective and Christian threatens with a shovel. Archive: Fanfiction.net, Twisting the Hellmouth, Personal Space, Quickie Challenge. If you'd like to post it, just drop me an e-mail. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or situation borrowed from either Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the WWE. This is a non-profit piece of fiction. Author's Notes: Well, long time no see. I figure it's been about a month since I wrote anything, and about five months since I updated this story. So, now I plan to finish the Telephone series as soon as possible.  
  
~  
  
It took a surprisingly long time for all four phones to be connected. Willow frowned as she once again was forced to start over; Buffy had decided to hang up just as she had gotten Christian into the conversation. Christian had followed her example and done the same.  
  
Letting her head drop into her hands she took a deep breath. This would have been so much easier if they would just agree to either pass the phone back and forth or create a private chat room. Buffy would have none of that, though, she said that hearing her voice would help intimidate Chris more.  
  
Not that Buffy had that intimidating of a voice. Not that Willow wanted Chris to get intimidated. Not that she wanted this four-way conference call to happen in the first place. Her and Chris were just getting comfortable in their friendship, and now Buffy was jeopardizing it with her protectiveness.  
  
Wearily pushing strands of red hair behind her ears, Willow reached for the phone once again. Quickly dialling Buffy's number, her friend picked up on the first ring. "Okay, let's try this again."  
  
It was an hour later that all four phones successfully managed to be connected. However, there was silence. A thick awkwardness seemed to reach over the phone lines and affect each of the people. It was odd because three of these people were decidedly anti-silent.  
  
It was Chris Jericho who finally breached the silence with a soft clearing of his throat. The words that followed were not quite tactful. "So, what's the deal? I didn't want this call and Willow didn't want this call. Why did you two want this call?"  
  
There was another pause as the tree others took the comment in. Christian was the next to speak. "I only said I wanted it to happen because it was pissing you off." Willow felt a smile spread across her face and she giggled slightly at Christian's antics.  
  
Chris' disgruntled mutters could just barely be heard, "Ass clown," was the only thing he had to say to his friend and sometimes tag team partner, "Well, Betty, why did you want this."  
  
Willow could practically sense the hostility coming from Buffy at those words. She could practically picture her best friend in her mind. A frown on her face, anger glinting in her eyes and her nails digging into her desk, nails that could cause serious harm if they ever got within striking distance of Chris Jericho.  
  
"It's Buffy," were the cool words, "and I asked Willow for this call so I could find out who the hell you are. How do I know you're not some kind of creep?"  
  
The smirk on Jericho's face was practically visible to the other callers as his next words came out, "You don't." He turned quiet after that, enjoying the annoyance he was sure he was causing. Unseen by the others, Willow rubbed her eyes. She should have guessed that Buffy and Chris would have conflicting personalities.  
  
Buffy's voice was practically acidic as she answered. "Listen, you freak. If you hurt Willow, I swear, I will hunt you down and beat you to death with a shovel. Do you understand that?" Her breathing was getting harder as her anger grew. Buffy may not be perfect, but she cared immensely about her friends.  
  
"My, violent, aren't we?" Chris' reply was mocking in its tone. The blonde Canadian was used to threats, it came with the territory. Willow had described Buffy, and personally, much scarier people than short, blonde, university students had threatened him.  
  
With a feral growl, Buffy slammed the receiver down into its cradle, cracking the plastic. She glared stubbornly at the offending telephone. The only thoughts running through her head ran along the line of 'That jerk! What could Willow possibly see in him!'  
  
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Buffy opened her trunk and grabbed her favourite axe and shoved Mr. Pointy into her waistband. She may not be able to beat up that stupid, pompous, asshole, but she could definitely go work off her anger on some minions.  
  
Back in the call, there was a short silence before Christian's voice cut through quietly, "That was tense." The younger of the two blonde men definitely knew what it was like to be round up by Chris Jericho, it had happened to him enough times. He couldn't help but feel sorry for Willow's friend Buffy.  
  
Chris started laughing in his own unique way; loud and obnoxious. He loved what he did, and no one could deny that he had an inexplicable way with words.  
  
"Did you have to do that?" Willow's only question was said with half- hearted conviction. It had been a little bit funny... but mean and cruel and bad.  
  
"She threatened me!" was Chris' reply, said with noticeable mock innocence. "I made one innocent mistake and answered her truthfully and she threatened me! I'm the victim here!"  
  
Willow sighed. She guessed it had been too much to ask that Buffy and Chris get along with each other. Her best friend and her... what? Boyfriend? Shaking her head she brought herself back to the conversation and pushed those thoughts out of her head.  
  
"Anyway, I've got to bail. My plane leaves in 5 hours and I haven't packed yet." Christian seemed unconcerned about it. "Bye, Willow. Catch you later, Jericho."  
  
Saying their good-byes to Christian the other two listened as he hung up the phone. Willow glanced at her clock and decided she better head out as well. "Sorry, I've got to head out too. Run Buffy interference." She smiled grimly at the thought.  
  
Chris cleared his throat nervously, "Okay. Listen, Willow, I'm sorry if what I said to Buffy bothered you. I was just being me, and sometimes me is kind of a smartass." The apology had to be forced out of his lips. Chris Jericho didn't apologize easily, but he didn't want Willow mad at him.  
  
"It's okay, Chris. You and Buffy just don't mesh. Conflicting personalities. I'll talk to you later?" The question was hopeful and Chris breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Yea, I'll talk to you later Willow." The words were once more said with ease, "Take care of yourself."  
  
"You too," was her quick response, "Bye."  
  
"Bye."  
  
The two phones were hung up, and the two people were left staring at them with goofy smiles on their faces. That hadn't turned out that bad after all. 


	5. Busy Signal

Telephone  
Busy Signal  
  
Author: Kamikazee E-Mail: neo_kamikaze@hotmail.com Rating: PG-13 Series/Sequel: Part 5 of the 'Telephone' series Warnings: Bad language Category: BtVS/WWE Pairing #: 161 (Chris Jericho/Willow) Spoilers: None Summary: In which, Jericho gets protective and Willow gets gone. Archive: Twisting the Hellmouth, Quick Fics, Personal Space, Fanfiction.net Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or situations affiliated with either Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the WWE. This is simply a piece of non-profit fiction. Authors Note: Only one more part to go. *Does happy dance* I've had this series planned out for who knows how long and now it's finally almost done.  
  
~  
  
Chris Jericho flipped open his cell phone as calmly as possible and dialled the familiar number. He didn't need to check the number because he knew it by heart. Before the usual shrill ringing could even begin, a high- pitched beeping started. Chris listened and waited, hoping that it would stop. Finally, there was a click and the answer machine turned on.  
  
Chris snapped the phone closed in one quick, angry movement, terminating the connection. His eyes flashed and his knuckles itched with the urge to hit something, hard. He pushed that urge down, reminding himself for the millionth time in three days that breaking something wouldn't help, though it would make him feel better.  
  
Instead, Jericho jerked his hand through his long blonde hair, mussing it as he did so. His movements were twitchy and violent. His control was losing ground fast and he was afraid that if something didn't happen soon he was going to explode. He felt sorry for anyone who was around when that happened. Well, not everyone. He wouldn't feel sorry if Triple H were around, or Shawn Michaels, or even Eric Bischoff for that matter.  
  
Chris shook his head and let the smirk fall off his face. He wasn't in a good mood and he wasn't going to smile. Everything that was happening right now was bad. It was made even worse by the fact that he couldn't control it. He couldn't do anything and he hated that feeling more than anything... More than anything except the thought that Willow might be in some kind of trouble.  
  
Dropping on to his bed he laid down, trying in vain to relax his muscles. It was no good, though. He wouldn't be able to relax until he knew for a fact that Willow was all right. He needed desperately to hear her voice and have her reassure him that he was overreacting.  
  
He doubted that was going to happen. Willow hadn't called him in four days. Four days without a single word. Not for lack of trying either. Every chance he got, Chris had called her, waiting for that familiar voice to answer him. Every time he waited and waited, listening to that God-awful beeping noise, before the answering machine turned on.  
  
43 phone calls. 30 messages. 21 e-mails. No sign of Willow anywhere. Chris was beginning to feel the dull panic set in. He knew Willow and it wasn't like her to ignore him like this. She was a little imp at times, but she would never do this. This was something that left a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
  
He slowly began nitpicking his way through the memory of their last conversation. Did she say something odd? Did she do something differently? Did she seem upset? No matter how long he thought about it, he couldn't figure out what could possibly be wrong. As far as he could tell, everything had been normal the last time they had talked.  
  
It frustrated him to no end that he didn't know. He wanted to know everything about her, but he didn't. There was so much he didn't know about her life. How she looked when she got up in the morning, what her bathroom looked like, the expression on her face as he made love to her.  
  
With an abrupt shake of his head, Chris dispelled that particular image. He was starting to get creepy again. He and Willow were just friends, hell, they hadn't even met face to face yet. Either way, she didn't think of him like that. It was crazy to let himself think like that. It ran the risk of destroying their friendship if she ever found out. That was something he knew he wouldn't be able to stand.  
  
It was hard to believe how attached he's become to Willow. It's been so long since he allowed someone to get this close to him. Sure he had friends, a couple, but he didn't let anyone get to close. If people got to close then they could hurt him, and they could get hurt. He wasn't going to let that happen anymore. Of course, he was probably much to late for that.  
  
Chris tried to even out his breaths. He could do this. He would just forget about her for now. He had work to do, and she would call him in a couple of days. Everything would go back to normal and he would laugh at himself for reacting this way. There was nothing to worry about.  
  
Jericho was quickly finding out how much harder it was to bullshit yourself then it was to bullshit other people. He could reassure himself all he wanted, but he wasn't going to believe a word he said. A bark of cynical laughter forced its way out of his throat. Now, he was talking to himself.  
  
He finally reached out and picked up the phone again. Dialling the number was easy; he used it enough. He sat still as the ringing began, comforted by the sound. When it was picked up on the other end, he opened his mouth. The words that followed finally made him feel as if he was doing something productive.  
  
"Pacific Airlines?" A pause. "Yes, I'd like to book a flight. As soon as possible. Sunnydale, California." There was some gurgling through the phone. "8:30? And I can pick up my tickets at the information desk? Thank you." 


	6. Answering Machine

**Telephone  
Answering Machine**  
  
Author: Kamikazee  
  
E-Mail:   
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Series/Sequel: Part 6 (of 6) of the 'Telephone' series  
  
Warnings: Bad language and innuendo  
  
Category: BtVS/WWE  
  
Pairing #: 161 (Chris Jericho/Willow)  
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Summary: In which, you should leave a message at the sound of the tone.  
  
Archive: Twisting the Hellmouth, Personal Space, If you want to archive it, please send me the URL  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or situations affiliated with either Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the WWE. This is simply a piece of non-profit fiction.  
  
Authors Note: Finally done. No sequel. Nada.

**FIC STARTS HERE------------**  
  
**RING**  
  
**RING  
  
RING  
  
RING  
  
CLICK**  
  
"Hi! You've reached Chris and Willow. We're not home right now, obviously, or we would have picked up the phone..."  
  
"Unless we're having sex, of course. The wild naked monkey kind. And Christian, if this is you, you better not be picturing anything! For my eyes only!"  
  
**SMACK**  
  
"Ow! C'mon, Will, you know I was just playing. Plus, I know you enjoy the wild..."  
  
"Okay, so Chris isn't allowed to speak anymore. If you're a friend of his, well, you know how he is. Try his cell. If you can't reach him there, it means he's either working, travelling, or..."  
  
"Having wild naked monkey sex with his girlfriend. In this case, please don't interrupt."  
  
"Chris! So, if you're my friends, you're probably grossed out enough at Chris, unless you're Anya, which is just... creepy. If you really need to see me, as in end of the world need, you can try Buffy's, the Magic Box or my cell phone."  
  
"Yes, well, don't call if you don't need to. We've got better things to do, like wild..."  
  
"Shhh! No more talkie for you, mister!"  
  
"Well, that's no fun. Of course, if I can't talk, I can do other things with my mouth..."  
  
"No! No! Bad! Stop that! Right now! Oh! Wait! Answering machine, right. I almost forgot. If we're not here between the 15th and the 24th we're on vacation."  
  
"And no, Christian, I am not telling you where. This is special alone time for the adults, okay?"  
  
**SMACK  
**  
"What was that for?"  
  
"Being mean to Christian! Meanie!"  
  
"Whatever. Are we done? I think it's about time for the wild naked monkey sex."  
  
"If you want your wild naked monkey sex you'd better shut up! Oh, well, I mean, that is.... Shit... Leave a message at the tone?"  
  
**BEEP**  
  
"Interesting message you've got there, Wills. Xander, here. Just calling to check to see if you're back yet. I guess you're not yet. Damn. And no, I didn't let Anya here the message. You're lucky she's doing inventory. Of course, I had to learn more about your and Chris' sex life then I ever wanted to know, but, the sacrifices I make for our friendship. Anyway, we need you to come play mediator, badly. Buffy and Dawn are fighting again. As in, knock down, holes in the wall, silent treatment fighting. You know how Buffy gets, and you're the only one Dawn really listens to. So, when you get back, could you field a few calls? Please, I'm dying. Love you lots, best buddy. Hope you had a great trip."  
  
**BEEP  
**  
"Jericho. Pick up. Pick up, pick up, pick up. C'mon.... pick up. Fine. Guess you're not here. When are you getting back? Things are shit around here without you. Plus, the Hurridork keeps showing up in THE weirdest places. You wouldn't believe. Plus, I kind of need advice. You see, I kind of did this thing, where I kind of _asked Lillian Garcia on a date and she said yes and now I don't know what to do_ (text in brackets said at inhuman speed that I will not expose you to for your own health). So, I sort of need some advice. I have no idea what to do. At all. So, you need to call me, dude. Right away. I guess that's it. Except for the fact that you were totally uncool in that message and I was picturing Willow naked. Sorry, Willow. Could you please make sure Chris answers my message? I love you, girl. Call me."  
  
**BEEP**


End file.
